


words like honey

by pockettreatpete



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: M/M, Mild D/s, PWP, Pete is turned on by good logistics, Phone Sex, adventures in kink with pete and chasten, otp: wait that's my word, two hot nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 13:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20967413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pockettreatpete/pseuds/pockettreatpete
Summary: Just because they're apart doesn't mean they can't be close





	words like honey

Chasten gets in late. Normally he’d get ready for bed before getting on the phone, but the “Ready when you are”-text from Peter is already nearly 45 minutes old by the time he gets to the hotel, so he throws himself on the bed and calls his husband right away, hoping to catch him before he nods off. Peter sounds tired, but happy. 

“Did you have a good night?” he asks. 

“I did! I really did.”

“I can tell,” Peter says and Chasten can hear him smiling.

“Why? Do I sound drunk?”

Peter breathes a laugh. “Yeah, you sound a little drunk. Good for you, love.”

Chasten sighs happily as he stretches out on the bed. “It was so, so much fun. Wish you were here, though.” 

“I wish I was too.”

“I could have given you a blowjob if you were here,” Chasten says, and doesn’t hear the sharp intake of breath at the other end of the line. “I love drunk blowjobs,” he adds idly, the thought just occurring to him. 

“I know how you do,” Peter says, and if Chasten could liquefy Peter’s voice he’d take a bath in it. Deep, chocolatey smooth, slow and deliberate, happy and fond and––

_Oh. _

He grins. 

“You love them too,” he says slowly. He knows what’s happening now. “If I’m not mistaken you particularly enjoy the way my gag reflex relaxes when I’m drunk.” He definitely doesn’t miss the whistle of Peter’s breath this time. “Something on your mind, Peter?” 

“I…” 

Chasten laughs in delight. Nine times out of ten, speechless Peter is horny Peter. He’s a little drunk, true, but not too drunk for this.

“You want to do this, babe? We can.” 

He listens to Peter exhale and inhale, holding on to the phone. 

“Yeah,” Peter says, voice thick with excitement. “Yeah.”

“Do you have your Airpods?”

“I can get’em.” 

“Get lube too,” Chasten says. “And tissues.” 

He can hear Peter chuckling as he makes his way around his hotel room, rustling through his stuff. “You could have had a great career in advance work,” he teases. 

Chasten hums as he puts in his own headphones. “What do you think foreplay is?” 

Peter laughs. “That’s fair.” Some more rustling, then: “Okay, I’ve got it. You’re in my ear.” 

“Well, that’s a start. Were you in bed when I called?” 

“Yeah.”

“So you’re wearing… Underwear?” 

“Not anymore,” Peter says, sheepishly. 

Chasten grins. “Eager.” 

“Very.” 

“Don’t touch yourself yet,” Chasten instructs, laying back against the pillows and opening his own pants. 

“Yes, sir,” Peter says and _fuck, yes_, does he want to go there tonight? Chasten’s dick responds immediately. 

“Do you think you can goad me?” he asks, but his authority is immediately undermined by how embarrassingly breathless “sir” makes him. 

“No, sir,” Peter replies. Chasten can hear the cheeky bastard smiling. 

“Good to know we’re on the same page. Tell me what you’d want me to do to you if I was there,” he says, even though he can pretty much guess, if it’s a ‘yes sir’ kind of night. 

“Fuck me.” Peter says immediately. He pauses, takes a breath. “Fuck me hard. Don’t let me touch myself. Make me beg.” 

Chasten is sometimes blown away by the strength of Peter’s desire. It’s easy to forget, even for him, that there are so many feet of depth under the calm surface. When they’re together, Peter is so focused on Chasten, on what Chasten wants. Often, what Chasten wants is what Peter wants, so it works out well, but he rarely gets to set aside time just for Peter, lately. Every time he does he’s reminded how spectacular it is, how much Peter _wants_ but keeps buttoned down, how beautiful it is when he lets go.

“Hard, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Feels like that’d be a bad idea, to fuck you real hard when you have a half-dozen journalists watching your every move on that bus all day,” he teases. 

Pete honest-to-god growls, and Chasten laughs. 

“You like that idea? Being so sore you can’t move without feeling it, having to pretend all day that it’s nothing?”

Peter doesn’t say anything, but Chasten can hear his breath, already heavy and shaky. 

“I asked you a question, _Peter Paul_. Do you like that idea?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Maybe I can come with the next time you’re doing the bus thing,” Chasten says. “Seems like that back room there would be a good place for you to practice being quiet while I blow you. Or maybe I could fuck you over the table.”

Peter gasps, and Chasten feels smug. There are times he can drive Peter absolutely crazy just with his words, and it’s _so_ fucking rewarding. 

“You’re not great at keeping quiet when I fuck you, though. Maybe I should get a gag,” he says on a whim, and grins at Peter’s strangled groan. 

“You want to touch yourself, Peter?” He smooths his voice out, makes it as silky as he possibly can.

“Yes.”

“Yes what, Peter?” Still smooth, but with an edge of steel.

“Yes, sir.”

He has to bite his lip not to exhale audibly. God, he loves it when Peter’s in this headspace. Abdicating all control, trusting Chasten to take it and make him feel good. 

“How about asking nicely?” 

Peter doesn’t miss a beat.

“Please let me touch myself, sir, I’m so hard for you, please.”

Holy fuck. Chasten pushes his own pants down and palms his dick. 

“Get some lube. You can touch yourself, but don’t move your hand.”

Peter unsuccessfully tries to conceal a frustrated noise, and Chasten almost laughs. “Is there a problem?”

“No, sir.” The strain in Peter’s voice is obvious. 

“I can picture you, you know. You look good enough to eat.” He pauses for a good ten-count. “You can move your hand, Peter.”

“Thank you, sir,” Peter tries to say but the ‘sir’ disappears in a resplendent moan that Chasten can feel all the way to his toes. 

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes, yes, sir,” Peter breathes. 

“Good. Stop if you feel like you’re about to come,” Chasten says and starts stroking himself in earnest.

Peter sobs, but doesn’t protest. For several minutes there’s no sound on the line except their co-mingled breaths, then Peter utters a broken “fuck,” followed by a frustrated moan. 

“Getting close, there, Peter?” Chasten tries to sound unaffected but he’s pretty far gone himself. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Well, you know what to do, don’t you?” 

Peter breathes heavily. “Please let me come, sir,” he pleads. “Please. I’ve been so good.” 

Chasten would never admit it to anyone, but the whine in Peter’s voice when he’s this close is one of the hottest things he knows. He’s getting so close, stroking himself furiously. “Again,” he manages to grit out, and Peter must understand, because he lays it on thick. 

“Please, sir, please let me come, I’m so hard for you. Please, sir,” he says, and Chasten comes in long, thick spurts. 

It takes him a minute to find his voice again, and Peter sounds like he’s barely holding on, his breath quick and shallow. 

“You can come, Peter,” Chasten finally retains enough breath to say, and the response is immediate. 

Peter groans deeply and Chasten can picture him curling in on himself with the force of his orgasm. 

He gets up, gingerly taking off his clothes and cleaning himself up as he listens to Peter’s breaths even out in his ear. He’s just gotten under the covers when Peter has collected himself enough to talk. 

“That was pretty great,” he says. 

“It was,” Chasten says, and hopes Peter can hear him smile. 

“What are you thinking about?” Peter asks. 

Chasten hums. “Gagging you.”

Peter laughs. “That was a new idea,” he says, fond and amused. 

“Yeah, for me too. What do you think?” 

Peter doesn’t reply right away and Chasten is milliseconds away from taking the whole thing back when he finally talks. “I think I liked it.” He pauses. “If it’s something you think you want to try I’m happy to.”

“Let me think about it.”

Peter laughs again. “I thought you already were.” 

“Hey,” Chasten says, changing the subject. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter replies. “I just…” He trails off sleepily, hums a little. “I just miss you. Lot of pressure.” 

“Okay.” There’s probably more there, but he’s not going to get it out of Peter tonight. “Go to sleep. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He drifts off to sleep with Peter on his mind.


End file.
